


Broadcaste System

by PCrabapple



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Ass-to-mouth (with condoms), Boys Kissing, Deepthroating, Developing Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros is hired as the early morning station assistant for his college’s radio station, KSBRB, working under the mysterious DJ Stridenasty. Sparks and CD cases will fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this ages and ages ago on the kinkmeme in response to a prompt about Dave being a college radio DJ. Ever since I've been wanting to 1.) Edit it so it's not a pile of trash, 2.) Fix the music links that are now broken, and 3.) Write one more chapter and actually give it a good ending.
> 
> Hopefully I'll be able to do that, but this is just the start. I'm uploading all the music to a private Youtube Account and hopefully none of the music will get flagged. I'm also trying out embedding the music players in the fic, but I'm not sure how that will work out. Anyway, I love feedback, and there are a few changes besides just grammar and spelling corrections. If you're reading it for the first time or again, I'd love to hear from you! Enjoy.

“Good evening, ladies and lads, if you’re listening to this, what the hell is wrong with you? Go to bed. If you’re stubborn then I guess we’re just stuck with each other for the next 3 hours. But don’t come crying to me when you’re falling asleep in your chemistry class tomorrow. Today. Whatever. Know what, let’s just get to some tunes, little something of my own. Be gentle, I’m sensitive. You’re listening to The Bitchin’ Hour, and I am ever your host, DJ Stridenasty. This one’s called ‘Whoever Stole My Bike Is In For A Galaxy Of Hurt For Real.’” 

Shit. He’s late. Tavros can hear the show’s intro piped in throughout the media studies hallway as he rushes towards the studio, feet clanking awkwardly against tile. His first day and he’s late. Way to make a great impression. He tries to think of a better excuse than being held up by an impromptu rap battle with his roommate, but he’s drawing a blank. The troll is so flustered that he nearly walks right past the station’s door, but the large window set into the wall next to it is impossible to miss.

On the other side is broadcast room, which is pretty much everything that comes to mind when he thinks “radio station.” All the machines look a little outdated, but that’s probably the best they can do with the shit budget they likely get. There are microphones, wires, turntables, tape decks, and soundboards all over the place. Walls full of music posters, shelves full of CDs, records, even cassettes. The only really modern piece of equipment is a large desktop computer in the middle of the table, behind which the man he had just heard over the speakers is sitting. He’s lanky and blond, overly casual with his feet kicked up on the desk. Tavros’s presence causes him to turn his head towards the window, and the troll sees that he’s wearing large aviator sunglasses. Indoors. At 3 AM. Tavros is so caught up in staring that it takes awhile to register that the DJ nods a fraction of an inch in his direction and turns a knob. The beeps and boops set to beats fade out as he starts talking again.

“Hold up, bros. I don’t mean to interrupt myself but I’ve got some seriously important business to discuss with y’all. I’ve been promising you some fresh meat all week, and it looks as if it’s finally being laid upon the grill. Let’s take in that sizzle, shall we?”

Is…is he talking about Tavros? The freshman hopes maybe the DJ is just announcing a barbecue or something, but he keeps talking, looking right at Tavros through the window, and the subject matter becomes painfully clear.

“Now I’m a progressive kinda guy, colorblind and all that, but I can’t help but mention that our new homeboy is a troll. If you’re wondering what color his blood is, here’s a hot tip: mind your own damn business. I will say that this dude is very well endowed. I’m talking massive horns here, people. Probably has to turn sideways to get through doors with that pair. Let’s test that hypothesis out.”

Tavros is now mouth agape in horror, his face flushing burnt orange. The DJ looks at him expectantly and beckons him in with a wave of his hand. Tavros fails to move, looks dumbly behind him.

“Yes, I’m talking to you, bighorns, get your robotic ass in here. Did I forget to mention the guy’s got some tricked out metal legs? Man this cat has more facets than a diamond.”

The young troll finally unsticks his feet, and although he would like to run and find a nice ditch to die of embarrassment in, his legs carry him inexorably to the studio door. As he opens it and maneuvers his head through the doorway, he can’t help but wince as the blond host provides running commentary.

“He’s turning the knob folks, this is it, will he- yes! Newbie is sideways, newbie is sideways! Strider, one; doubters, zero. Eat it, doubters.”

As Tavros faces forward again, blushing even more, he starts to deeply regret taking the station assistant position, even if it was getting him much needed workstudy hours. The DJ, Strider or Stridenasty? was now pointing to the other chair at the desk and pulling over another microphone.

“Standby, loyal listeners, DJ Stridenasty is on the case, getting the first exclusive interview with the new kid on the programming block.”

“Oh, no, I’m just, uh… the assistant, I don’t… talk?” Tavros says, an intense bout of panic threatening to overtake him.

“Relax, dawg, it’s 3AM, no one’s listening, this is strictly for kicks”

“Oh, uhh, well if nobody is listening, then, I guess, it’s okay,” he plops down resignedly in the chair, suddenly finding his throat dry as the mic is shoved in his face.

“So what’s the scoop dude? Name, year, romantic status?” The DJ asks as he resumes his reclined position in the chair, no longer looking at the troll but clicking through a list of songs on the computer.

Tavros swallows hard, feeling extremely self conscious of his faltering words as they spill unevenly from his mouth.

“Tavros, Nitram...I’m, uh, a freshman and...uhhh,”

“Come on, Nitram, is there a special girl you’ve exchanged promise rings with or are you on the prowl?”

“Uhh, there’s, no, not anyone, uhh-”

“You heard it here first, ladies, if you like mohawks, noserings, prosthetic legs and bigass horns, our new station lackey here may be just the man for you.”

“I’m not uhh, really-” but Stridenasty pulls the mic away before Tavros can finish explaining that he’s not really, uh, into girls, like that.

“So drop a line if you want to give Nitram a shoutout. Now for some music to welcome our new friend. This is- aaah, you’ll figure it out.” The DJ turns down one knob and turns up another and the unmistakable cowbell intro from “Lowrider” fades up. Tavros’s new boss (he supposes) nods a little with the beat as he turns back to the totally overwhelmed troll.

“Alright just hang out a little for now, no pressure. If you want something to do you can start converting the CDs to mp3 with that thing,” he points to the giant wall of music and then to a tiny machine on the other side of the table.

“Umm, okay, but, I dunno if I’m really, totally all the way, comfortable talking, like, uh, into the microphone?”

“Oh, yeah don’t worry about that. I don’t think I’m going to put you on the air again. You’re like a walking ‘uh’ factory. And hey, go downstairs and get me some apple juice from the machine, okay?” He turns back, taking a record off the top of the stack next to him and unsheathing it. Tavros doesn’t know whether to be more relieved or insulted.

And, as the suddenly lit up phone switchboard indicates, The Bitchin’ Hour is actually one of KSBRB’s most popular shows, 3AM or not.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey Nitram where are you with my apple juice? Did you get lost on your way to the vending machine? Don’t worry pal I’ll get you back home safe. Just follow the sound of my voice.”

The first half of his shift is absolutely nerve wracking, and he’s fairly sure it’s all because of DJ Stridenasty (Dave, he’s supposed to call him Dave). When there’s music playing and the mic is off, Dave is all business, pointing out different machines and helpfully showing him how to use them in the 3-4 minutes before the song is over, minimal chit chat. What isn’t helpful is that whenever he’s talking on air, he seems intent on embarrassing Tavros as much as possible.

“My bad for dropping your call, Eq, but I totally agree that what this school needs more than anything is to put down a couple mil on some high quality stables. Screw scholarships or edible food. Horses are def where it’s at. This next one goes out to the new guy, who is pretty much assaulting and battering me with preciousness as he tries to figure out the switchboard. Keep at it, champ. Here’s some Joe Esposito.” 

Tavros makes countless mistakes, drops things, even jumps when Dave tells him to chill out, dude. He stammers out apologies and Dave just waves a dismissive hand; think nothing of it. Dave is the ultimate in chill. He has a smooth, level voice that’s pretty much made for radio, and a face made for television. Tavros wonders how many girls stay up way past their bedtime just to listen to DJ Stridenasty talk about music they probably hate.

“Good morning swim team ladies, you swim ‘em real good at practice, win us a big plastic trophy next week, kay? If you’re just joining us, like my sleepy-eyed mermaids waking up out there, let me paint you a verbal picture of what’s going down in the studio, and I do mean down. Imagine if you will a punk rock cyborg troll with absurd headgear crawling around on hand and aluminum alloy knee, scrambling after a pile of Prince cassettes he knocked over a minute ago. No copy of Purple Rain or That Retarded Symbol will escape his dragnet of the floor here. Can’t quite describe the level of dedication going into this task. Oh wait here we go, dude is crawling under my legs- hey watch the horns- to snatch up that- what is that? Hold it up, bro. New Power Generation? Yeah you just go ahead and throw that in the trash. And there he goes………...”

Tavros doesn’t go five minutes without blushing at Dave’s broadcast teasing over the next few hours, and it’s completely infuriating. He’s starting to think about working up the courage to say something akin to, ‘maybe I wouldn’t make, like, so many mistakes, and do a better job of, assisting you, if, uh, you weren’t constantly, making fun of me?’ But just as he’s getting to the working up the courage part, there’s a soft knock at the window, and Dave and Tavros both turn. On the other side is an average looking guy with messy black hair, glasses, and a slight overbite, accompanied by a scrawny troll wearing what look to be 3D glasses.

“Well if it isn’t the biggest dork on campus and the only person less qualified to speak on the radio than big horned newbie here. Looks like my time is up here, friends. Do me a favor, let’s all stop what we’re doing, if you’re driving take your hands off the wheel for a moment and let’s give a round of applause to the fresh meat. Hell of a job, kid, you keep those tapes flyin’ and those phone lines all tangled up. Alright, see you chumps and chumpettes tomorrow, time to get my learn on.” Dave hits play on “Music for Morning People,” and with no more than a raised hand in Tavros’s direction he’s out the door, stopping to fistbump the two outside before disappearing. 

Tavros waves goodbye a bit too late, and the human waves enthusiastically back at him as he enters the studio. “Hey, you must be Nitram! I’m John, I do the morning show, and Sollux does the tech report,” he says, and the troll who seems to have a permanent air of vague discomfort mumbles, “Hey.”

“You can, uh, call me Tavros,” he replies, wondering if he’s going to be starting a whole new cycle of humiliation with these two.

But it’s a completely different experience. John and Sollux don’t mention him on the air once, and they’re quite friendly during breaks, especially John. And while John is taking calls or reporting news, Sollux even helps him get the hang of the equipment and only speaks with the tiniest hint of condescension.

Tavros much prefers working this show. He’s thrilled to stay out of the spotlight, so to speak, doesn’t drop a single call, and since it’s not about him, he can actually enjoy what the hosts are saying.

“The 3 D Eth is a piethe of crap! Nintendo is kidding itthelf if it thinkth it can path thith junk off ath a totally new game conthole.”

“Aw cmon Sollux, I think you’re forgetting the fact that it’s 3D _without glasses._ I hate having to put those cheap plastic things over my real glasses when i go to 3D movies.”

“Yeah, I gueth you’re right. Thorry I flew off the handle there. I mean, it doeth have two camerath, which ith pretty thweet.”

“And like, two good games!”

“Eheheh.”

The rest of the shift goes by quickly, and soon John and Sollux are being replaced by a human girl named Rose and a pair of trolls named Karkat and Kanaya. It seems like an odd group, and Tavros almost wants to stay and listen, but John is inviting him to breakfast. Tavros can’t ignore his hunger and accepts, following John and Sollux to the cafeteria.

“So, uhh, does DJ- uh, does Dave, have a problem with me, or something?”

“He’th kind of an inthufferable prick.”

“No he’s not! Okay, he can be a little chilly sometimes, but that’s just because he’s sooo cool.”

“Wow, why don’t you propothe?”

“Haha, ew, it’s not like that, we’re just bros for life!”

“Uhh,”

“Tavros, he’s just hassling you because you’re new. He’s been going on and on about having an assistant since the semester started and he found out he was getting one,” John lowers his voice and leans in conspiratorially. Tavros follows suit and knocks over the ketchup bottle with his horn, “Don’t tell anyone, but I think he gets lonely doing that show all by himself in the middle of the night, heheheh.”

When Tavros gets to his dorm room Gamzee is still asleep. He tries to climb into his recuperacoon as quietly as possible, but manages to topple the pyramid of empty RedBull cans he was building on his desk when his robotic leg slips on the slime. Gamzee gives a soft “honk,” but doesn’t wake.

Tavros has a few hours before his afternoon classes start, followed by evening classes. Then he’ll have to pretty much choose between homework and sleep before he has to be in the studio with Dave again. Tavros is thinking maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get a job so early in his first year, but before he can really consider it he’s already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people hate when authors write out Sollux's lisp. I just really wanted to emphasize that Sollux has a terrible voice for radio. I apologize if this offends anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

The next two weeks set up an exhausting routine. Despite John’s assurances, Tavros finds it impossible to get used to Dave’s near-constant ribbing. He spends three hours winding Tavros up to unprecedented levels of flusteredness until he can barely string one of his already choppy sentences together. Then he’s gone and Tavros takes the next two hours to recover during the morning show, undoing all the mistakes he made during Dave’s timeslot.

What Tavros can’t figure out is that whenever DJ Stridenasty isn’t talking into the microphone, he’s completely passive. He doesn’t ridicule him for dropping anything or getting his horns caught in one of the knots of wires lying around. He’s not especially friendly but he’s not completely callous either. It’s one of the strangest on-air personality gimmicks Tavros has ever heard, if that’s even what it is.

After the first week the blond DJ starts taking Tavros out to the balcony during his mid-show smoke break, and Tavros can’t figure that out either. They just stand silently out in the dark, Dave turning his silver cigarette case over in his free hand and Tavros sneaking glances at him out of the corner of his eye when he’s not looking at the empty campus below them.

“Don’t ever start smokin’ kid,” Dave says in a mock-grizzled voice as he exhales smoke that smells a lot more like apples than tobacco, “Hell of a habit.” 

“Uh...h-hey Dave?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I’m, such a...bad assistant, I guess. Maybe...uh, if I’m really too, terrible at it for you to uh, put up with, you should, possibly, find someone else? I would, uh, totally...understand.”

Dave turns to face him and Tavros wonders if he can even see him in the dark plus those impenetrable shades. There’s a tingling feeling in the base of Tavros’s spine as he stares back at the reflection of his own yellow eyes. He hopes it’s just nervousness at sort of kind of standing up to his boss and not something more complicated. Dave lets out a heavy sigh that might just be another exhalation of the sweet scented smoke and turns back to gaze over the academic mall.

“Nah. You’re cool. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, o-okay....well then, uh-”

“‘Free Bird’ is gonna be over in 45 seconds, gotta get back in there,” and he turns around, pushing through the door and sauntering down the hallway. It takes a second for Tavros to realize that he should probably be back in there too. This is always how it is. Dave is too quick for him, devastating him and leaving him shell-shocked in his wake before Tavros can figure out what to do or say.

In the early hours of that Friday, Tavros is looking forward to the weekend. He’s still got class in the afternoon, but it’s his last shift at the station till Monday. He’s trying his damnedest to not make a mistake with the switchboard, but even that is up for razzing from the DJ.

“Looks like we got a call on Line... 2 or 3? 2? 3? Help me out here Nitram use your words or fingers or something to convey a message. Line 2, okay. Go ahead and talk at me caller.”

“Yeah, hey Strider, tell that stutterin’ idiot gutterblood minion a yours to dig his disgustin’ hands around in that sorry excuse for a music collection you got and find somethin’ decent like some Vampire Weekend.”

Tavros makes a small noise in the back of his throat as he recognizes the voice and accent. It’s Eridan Ampora, a dorm- and classmate whose caliginous come-ons are bordering on harassment. It’s crazy how many trolls, especially highbloods, are intent on clinging to such outdated notions as kismesitude when most have given up those violent practices in favor of more simple human-style relationships.

Dave turns his head at the sound Tavros makes, and Tavros meets the DJ's unreadable expression with a poor attempt to cover up how genuinely distraught he is. There is a moment of dead air before the troll on the phone starts talking again.

“What the hell’s goin on? Did that fudge-veined dumbass drop the call? Hey asshole, quit screwin’ evverythin’ up like you alw-” Dave reaches across the table and hits the disconnect button. Tavros’s own finger has been hovering over it, but he can’t bring himself to push it without Dave’s signal, that quick slash across his throat with a finger he does that makes Tavros have to swallow.

“Wow okay no more calls from Line 2. You got that Nitram? Line 2 is dead to me.”

“Uhh, I don’t think, that’s how it, uh, wor-“

“And let me make something perfectly clear to all the haters out there. Nobody, and I mean nobody, insults my stuttering minion. This dude is mine to rag on, and mine alone.” At this Dave flings an arm out and wraps it around Tavros’s waist, pulling him over so he’s standing right next to the DJs chair. “I’m gonna bring the pain on any high-falutin’ assholes like that last guy who think they can just walk all over my dawg Nitram. He may be my underling, but I’m still miles above the rest of you losers, and that makes him one higher on the Striderspectrum than you fools.” 

The gesture is baffling to Tavros. It seems highly unnecessary, it’s not like anyone can see Stridenasty holding onto Tavros like a favorite toy while he tells his listeners off. He squirms a little in discomfort and Dave just pulls him in more, digging his fingers into Tavros’s hipbone and causing his stomach to do an odd flip.

“Here’s some Method Man to cement just how serious I am about this.” He types into the computer one handed and hits enter, triggering a deep bass beat to start pumping. Dave turns the mic off, and looks up at Tavros, who is once again blushing and sort of panicking but for a slightly different reason than usual.

“You cool bro?” He asks nonchalantly, like he’s not totally sidehugging Tavros’s midriff.

“Uhh, I’m not, sure... I, think that, okay is something, that, I might not...know what it is, anymore?” Tavros doesn’t know what to do with his hands, is just holding them awkwardly out of the way of Dave’s arm, in case he’s not supposed to let them touch or something. He’s okay with the Eridan thing, or at least he’s kind of forgotten about it now. The present situation is what’s giving him problems.

And then DJ Stridenasty does probably the most perplexing thing yet. He reaches up and grasps the ring going through Tavros’s septum, using it to gently lead Tavros down to his level. It doesn’t hurt, but Tavros has absolutely no choice but to comply. His legs bend almost of their own accord and there’s a soft clank as one of his knees settles onto the floor. Dave’s arm migrates up to Tavros’s shoulder in an ironic paternal sort of gesture.

“Listen man. Don’t let him get to you. People like him are just hemophobe chumpasses who can’t seem to get the memo that nobody gives a damn about their bullshit bloodfuckery."

He’s staring at Tavros again, who suddenly really, really wants to see what’s behind those gigantic sunglasses. He runs his tongue over his lip nervously and thinks about maybe telling Dave how unbelievably cool he is, and how someone so cool really should reconsider getting a better assistant. He tries not to think about how much this is kind of turning him on, and how Dave is probably the only person in the universe who can make yanking nose jewelry sexy. He fails both attempts, and just says “O-oh, uhh, okay.”

“Atta boy. Go get ‘em tiger.” The DJ lets go of the bull ring and cards his fingers through Tavros’s mohawk, then ruffles his hair in another fatherly sort of gesture. Tavros does his best to suppress a shiver as Dave releases him. His horn paps into the computer monitor as he’s trying to get up, and Dave grabs it with lightning fast reflexes before it falls over. Tavros doesn’t even have the first syllable of his apology out before Dave is holding up his hand.

“Dude it’s okay, just calm down and go alphabetize something.”

Tavros does so, spending the rest of his shift trying to puzzle out what the hell was going on. DJ Stridenasty actually lays off of him for the rest of the show, picking on various shortcomings of the university instead (“Can we get some real desks? I came to college to party every night and get a piece of that sweet hazing action, not sit in these tiny desks that are probably left over from a third grade classroom.”). Tavros finds that he strangely misses the teasing a little bit. Because while Dave may not be embarrassing him, he’s also not really paying him any attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave smokes electronic cigarettes with nicotine-free flavored liquids so he can look cool without the cancer or addiction factors.


	4. Quadrant Queries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to use colors and quirks in this section because I wanted to make it absolutely clear who was speaking because I'm not confident in my ability to write Kanaya and Rose.
> 
> Also, some fabulous people have continued [**Quadrant Queries**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/257846) and it makes me weep with how beautiful they are.

“Good Morning Faithful Listeners You Are Of Course Listening To Quadrant Queries I Am Kanaya Maryam And I Am As Always Joined By My Lovely Cohosts Rose Lalonde And Karkat Vantas”

“Good day.”

“YEAH WHATEVER, IT’S BARELY STARTED AND I ALREADY CAN’T WAIT FOR THIS SHITHEAP OF A WEEK TO BE OVER.”

“Karkat Weve Already Been Fined This Semester Once For Your Rambunctious Language Please Do Try To Keep It Broadcastable”

“Use some of your colorful substitutions if you must.”

“GOD, FINE, I CAN’T WAIT FOR THIS STEAMING EXCREMENT MOUND OF A WEEK TO BE OVER. CAN WE PLEASE GET TO SOME QUESTIONS FROM THESE INEPT MORONS WHO CAN’T FIND A FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP IF IT WAS LOCATED ON THEIR DISEASED BACKSIDES IF THEY HAD TWO HANDS AND A LIGHTSTICK?”

“First I Think It Would Be Prudent To Mention That The Delta Kappa Delta Sorority Is Holding A Bakesale During Lunch Today To Benefit Trolls With Xenoimmune Dysfunction Syndrome. For A Good Cause You Can Purchase And Consume Brownies Rice Krispy Treats And... Snickerdoodles.”

“HAHA WOW, I COULD LITERALLY SEE THE PAIN IN YOUR FACE AT HAVING TO PRONOUNCE THAT WORD.”

“I think a little dignity can be sacrificed where charitable donation is involved.”

“Hmm Yes Anyway Let Us Stall No Further And Get To A Question We Have An Email From ‘A T’ Who Writes: ‘Dear Quadrant Queries’... Uh Bear With Me The Manner In Which This Person Typed The Email Makes It A Bit Difficult... ‘Dear Quadrant Queries I Have Been A Fan Of Yours For A Long Time Or Well At Least Since I Started Listening Which I Guess Wasn’t That Long Ago But-” Excuse Me Again There Is A Legitimate Question In Here Somewhere Let Me Just Find It”

“JESUS I CAN ALREADY TELL THIS GUY WHAT HIS PROBLEM IS.”

“Why do you assume that it’s a man?”

“I GUESS IT’S JUST CAUSE I’M A HUGE MISOGYNIST JACKOFF- SORRY, JERKOFF. SHOULD I SAY ‘THIS LADY’S PROBLEM IS THAT SHE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T HAVE THE FIRST CLUE ABOUT HOW TO SPEAK NORMALLY IN A SOCIAL SITUATION EVEN WHEN THAT SITUATION IS AN EMAIL SHE HAD PLENTY OF TIME TO REVISE BEFORE SENDI-”

“Please Shut Up I Have Found The Relevant Paragraph Ahem ‘I Work With A Human Who I Think I Like And Who I Think Maybe Might Like Me Too But I’m Not Sure Because He Is Almost Always Making Fun Of Me And Sort Of Embarrassing Me In Front Of A Lot Of People And I Think Maybe He Doesnt Really Mean It But Is Just Sort Of Joking Around I Sort Of Want To Maybe Tell Him How I Feel Possibly But Maybe He Actually Really Doesnt Like Me And Thinks Im Stupid And If I Told Him He Would Think Probably That Im Even Dumber And More Lame Than He Might Think I Am Now It’s Kind Of Extremely Frustrating And Im Not Sure What If Anything I Should Think About Maybe Doing”

“HEY CAN YOU COUNT UP THE COMMAS IN THAT MASTERPIECE?”

“Um Sixty Three In All.”

“OKAY I WAS OBVIOUSLY JOKING. ANYWAY, THIS IS TEXTBOOK KISMESIS ASSHATTERY. SOUNDS LIKE HE’S BLACK AS HELL FOR YOU.”

“But this is a human we’re talking about.”

“NO SH- CRAP, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE IT’S THE FIRST TIME A HUMAN HAS TAKEN A REALLY CLUMSY FREAKING STAB AT SOMETHING CALIGINOUS WITH A TROLL OR EVEN ANOTHER HUMAN. YOU IDIOTS THINK IT’S JUST SO PANTS SOILINGLY COOL TO PRETEND YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO TRULY HATE SOMEONE IN THAT SPECIAL WAY.”

“You Are Correct About The Clumsy Aspect I Doubt There Has Ever Been A True Human Kismesis Relationship It Would Be Nothing But Foolishness To Pour Time Effort And Emotion Into Someone You Detested When There Is No Necessity Behind The Act As There Was In The Time Of Imperial Drones If A Human Appears To Be Courting Someone In This Manner Then It Is Most Likely They Are Attempting To Mask Their True Feelings Of Affection For The Person If He Really Hated You To The Point Of Not Being Able To Stand Being Around You Then He Would Simply Make His Life Easier By Avoiding Or Ignoring You”

“I can certainly get behind this theory. The situation stinks of denial and overcompensation. If you were children it might be something resembling bullying, which itself is laden with so many developmental psychological issues that I can’t get into it fully. But we’re all adults here so I think it must be something other than immature harassment. Your coworker is either in denial about his own feelings and trying to mask them with the actions that Karkat is mistaking for black advances-”

“WELL FINE JUST DISMISS MY ADVICE! HEY LET’S ASK KARKAT TO HOST A SHOW WITH US! HE’S AN EXPERT ON THIS STUFF, OH WAIT LET’S IGNORE EVERYTHING HE HAS TO SAY! GREAT SHOW GUYS REALLY BRILLIANT-”

“OR, the other possibility is that, providing he had a rough upbringing, he may be exhibiting reproduction of mothering, repeating the same sort of dubious behaviors on those he cares for that his parental figures practiced on him. Really rather tragic when you think about it.”

“HEY DID YOU CONSIDER OPTION THREE? THAT MAYBE HE REALLY IS JUST A GRUBLIKE ASSHOLE AND WANTS TO MAKE THIS GUY’S, YEAH YEAH, OR GIRL’S LIFE A LIVING HELL? AND IF THIS IDIOT TALKS THE WAY THEY TYPE I KIND OF WANT TO DO THE SAME.” 

“Karkat, a little respect for our listeners, please?”

“Well That Is Certainly The Least Optimistic Of The Choices I Think We Can All Agree However That If He Is Making You Uncomfortable You Should Say Something About It To Him You May Force Him Into Admitting His Own Feelings And At The Very Least You Will Likely Find Out What Is Really Going On In This Complicated Situation”

“I think whatever the case, you’re dealing with a rather neurotic individual. The situation needs to be diffused before you bear the brunt of anymore undeserved scorn.”

“YEAH I HOPE YOU TWO MONUMENTAL SCREWUPS CAN FIND HAPPINESS TOGETHER.”

“Let’s take a break while we all calm down, shall we? This is CocoRosie.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Well, the theory that Nitram can wear headphones has been disproven, looks like it’s earbuds or nothing for this poor unfortunate troll. I’ve got a new suspicion regarding his usefulness as a headphone rack though. We’ll find out after my break. I promised my Bro I’d put some of his trash on the air, and when I’m out of the room seems like the best time, so here’s some Stridenasty version zero point zero. I promise the good stuff will resume when I get back.” 

By the time Tavros has untangled the headphones, which were crookedly and uselessly maneuvered around his horns, the opening mechanical thumps of the song are already playing and Dave is already halfway out the door, beckoning Tavros to follow him. Tavros takes a deep breath, he’s definitely going to do it tonight, and walks out the door after the DJ.

A couple days have passed since Tavros listened to the advice Kanaya’s show gave him. In the meantime Dave has been keeping up his on-air ridicule, and Tavros has been trying to figure out which of the three scenarios the hosts had proposed is correct. So far he’s just coming up more confused. He can’t just up and ask Dave if he’d had a difficult childhood or if he’s just a really, really cool jerk.

On the balcony everything is still and quiet and dark as usual. It’s nice to get a break from the constant music and talking that radio demands be present, but Tavros has a feeling he’d find it a little more relaxing if he wasn’t standing out here with Dave. He’s hunched over at the railing, his elbows propped up on the metal banister as he smokes in silence. Tavros just stands next to him awkwardly, looking over the edge. Why does he bring him out here with him? He’s not making fun of him or talking to him or anything. It’s just weird. He clears his throat weakly, and Dave turns his head maybe a centimeter.

“Uhm...D-Dave?” It feels a lot like a week ago. But this time he knows the song isn’t going to end before he gets out what he needs to say this time.

“Sup.”

“I-I wanted to tell you, that...it’s uhhh, really sort of, uh, embarrassing and not good for my, like, self esteem, I think, when you are always, uhh, making fun of my horns and.... other various things that are wrong with me... And, I don’t really understand, I mean, if it’s necessary, for the show, I guess I might be able to, uhhh, deal with it possibly? But, I just-”

“Nothing’s wrong with you dude,”

“Uhh, but-”

He doesn’t get much farther because suddenly the DJ’s lips are on his, and he’s being pushed back against the railing, which is really not a good place for him considering his accident, but Dave’s mouth tastes like _strawberries_ , and he has no clue what’s going on. He reaches up and grasps onto Dave’s shoulder, out of not wanting to fall over the edge or wanting to touch him or both. 

“You wrote in to Kanaya’s show didn’t you?” he says after pulling away. He’s still using his arms to trap Tavros, who sort of wishes he had the gumption to ask if they can maybe continue this with him pressed up against something a little more secure.

“Oh, I didn’t think you listened to it, I thought you would be, maybe, asleep or in class or something, uhhh, really cool.”

“Nah,” Dave replies shortly. Tavros has no clue what to do now. He hadn’t planned for this scenario at all. He turns his head to look nervously down at the ground behind him, and Dave has to duck to avoid getting hit by his horns. He doesn’t even get his mouth open to apologize this time before Dave’s licking at his neck, one hand grasping his horn, keeping his head turned to the side. Tavros is making a pathetic sort of whimpering sound, trying to not think about all the air between him and the ground behind him and just let himself enjoy Dave’s surprising actions. But Dave, in his uncharacteristic enthusiasm, pushes against him even more, and Tavros can’t look away from the ground due to Dave’s hold on him and ooh that feels really nice but the edge the edge the edge!

He grunts and uses his arms to leverage Dave back, standing up and moving quickly over to the nice solid brick wall by the door. He wishes he knew of a facial expression that conveyed, ‘Please, uh, come and ravish me, over here, instead.’ But he doesn’t so he just waits. Dave actually looks a little miffed, his mouth tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“What the hell man, I thought...” Dave looks like it’s the first time anyone has ever stopped his advances, and that may very well be the case. Tavros realizes there’s been a pretty serious misunderstanding and trips over his words as he rushes to explain.

“Oh, n-no I just have uh, sort of a problem with heights and, being r-really close to the edge of things that are really high up, and uh....Maybe you could...come over here, if you want?” He blushes even harder than he was before at making such a forward statement. 

“Oh shit,” Dave says, moving towards Tavros and resuming his former position, “Sorry man, didn’t know you had some PTSD shit going on.”

“It’s uh, okay, I didn’t expect you to know about it, for any reason,” He raises his arms tentatively and Dave grabs them, placing his hands on either side of the record decal on his chest. Then they’re kissing again, and Tavros can throw himself into it wholeheartedly this time, hardly believing this is actually happening to him. Dave is predictably amazing at kissing, his lips and tongue coordinated and soft and warm; and Tavros feels predictably inadequate. He wonders if Dave’s feeling at all like he is, off balance and out of breath and absolutely wonderful. Or if he’s just his normal coolkid self, sticking his tongue down his assistant's throat like it’s nothing.

Tavros has to come up for air, and Dave takes the opportunity to go back to his neck. Tavros moans in a pretty shameful manner as he feels Dave’s teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh. He moves a hand up to Dave’s hair, running his fingers through the surprisingly soft locks. He catches a glimpse of his watch as he does so, groaning inwardly, and outwardly as well because Dave is sucking at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“D-Dave...” he really doesn’t want to stop him, but it is his job, making sure DJ Stridenasty’s job goes smoothly, “Dave, the song, mmmh, is going to be over, soon, I think.” He feels Dave’s breath as he lets it out sharply against his skin.

“Fuck you’re right. Let’s go,” and just like that he’s collected again, not a hair out of place. Tavros feels anything but, his head still reeling and his pulse still racing. As they walk down the hall he can’t help but ask.

“A-are you still going to, uh...see if I, make a good headphone rack?” 

Dave looks at him, like maybe he’s scrutinizing him, whether anything has really changed between them. 

“I guess I could always tell them it worked. I’m pretty sure you would anyway.”

Tavros is still choc-full of questions, like ‘Why me?’ and ‘Does this mean, we’re dating?’ but now they’re back in the studio and Dave is extolling how well the troll’s horns can hold six pairs of fullsize headphones. Just for kicks Tavros hooks a few pair on the end of one of his horns, and Dave is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before things start getting really stridenasty. If you're a precious baby who doesn't like porn you can pretend the fic end here and they all live happily ever after.


	6. Chapter 6

That had been Friday night (well, Friday morning, he gets confused sometimes), so there’s no show the next day. Tavros uses the weekend to catch up on his pile of homework, and by the time Monday morning rolls around, he wonders if maybe he’d just imagined the whole thing. Of course he can’t expect Dave to be anything but professional while they’re in the studio, but there have been absolutely no signs from him suggesting that they’d had a sloppy makeout session a couple days ago. It’s not for lack of opportunity either. Tavros has been sort of hovering around Dave a little closer than he normally would, but the DJ just uses the opportunity for a bit more subdued broadcast ribbing. 

“Sure thing, caller, I’ll play some Nickelback right away. Nitram go get the Nickelback vinyl off the shelf, it should be in the ‘Stridenasty’s Favorite Records Of All Time’ section. Oh my god I am joking get back over here. This guy is so easy it is killing me. Someone call the police, murder by gullibility.”

He had high hopes for the smoke break, but the station manager happens to call, and Dave spends the ten minutes going over viewership data and other technical aspects instead. Tavros supposes it’s impressive that Dave doesn’t have to go to the normal host meeting and that the manager has to talk to him during his show instead. When he hangs up Tavros looks at him in a kind of ‘Man, that sucks, I uh, totally wanted to kiss you, on the balcony again, maybe’ manner, but he has a feeling it just looks pathetic. Dave looks at him in a kind of “I am going to be completely fucking inscrutable and you are going to enjoy it” manner. Tavros accidentally kicks over an errant stack of CDs.

“Well folks, it looks like I just got screwed out of my break. I’m feelin’ a little vindictive, think I might take it out on my audience. Here’s a godawful mashup. Nitram this is happening because me and the station manager don’t love each other anymore, not because we don’t love you anymore.” 

As synthesizers fade up, Tavros bends down on the floor to gather up the collection of soundtracks. Before he can start a new stack though, he hears Dave say, “C’mere.” He looks up and drops the copy of the Lion King OST. 

“Uh.”

“Come on, bro, let’s do this.”

“Do, uh, what, exactly?” Tavros is already standing next to Dave, which he figures says it doesn’t matter if the DJ wants to punch him in the face, he’d be there anyway. And what he wants to do, apparently, is pull Tavros down onto his lap, situating each of the robotic legs on either side of his skinny hips. He runs his fingers along the metal joints, up into the leg of his black cargo shorts, obviously curious about how far up they go. Tavros squirms when he reaches the scar tissue at his upper thigh, gasping just a bit.

“Thought they might go all the way up,” Dave says, “Things might’ve gotten too hot to handle if that was the case.” Tavros isn’t sure what he’s talking about but he forgets it pretty fast when Dave grabs his horns and pulls him down to kiss him. Tavros moans softly and he reciprocates readily. He’s been thinking about this all weekend, and now it’s happening. Right here in the studio while his ears are assaulted by Katy Perry, Ke$ha and Journey all at once. Right in the DJ’s chair in front of...the window. 

He jerks back, looking out the big window to the hallway, where of course, no one is standing. Dave lets out an exasperated sigh. “Man your whole flustered shtick is cute but you gotta calm down. Have you ever seen anyone out there this early?” Tavros shakes his head but keeps staring through the glass. He gasps again and brings his full attention back to Dave when the DJ drags his hand across his crotch. Tavros buries his face in the top of Dave’s head, which smells like coolguy and AXE shampoo (no doubt applied ironically). He fumbles trying to get his hand between them so he can mimic Dave actions, but Dave grabs his wrist, squeezing it. 

“Turn around,” he murmurs. Again Tavros falters and has to be pushed to comply. He hasn’t a clue what Dave is up to, but he’s willing to bet Dave knows what he’s doing. It takes a moment for him to settle, straddling Dave again in reverse, sitting up on his knees a bit. He shudders as Dave moves his hands up his shirt, running across his skin while Tavros vaguely notes that the switchboard is flashing like crazy (probably complaints about the music). He doesn’t know what to do with his hands in this position, he can’t reach Dave, and settles on gripping the chair’s armrests. It’s frustrating not being able to touch the DJ, but it’s also unbelievably exciting, filling him up with anticipation so each and every bit of contact from Dave is like exquisite fire on his nerves. He moans a little too loudly when Dave slips a hand down his shorts and palms his bulge, his face heating up as he realizes how inappropriate this is.

Dave opens Tavros’s fly and pulls him out of his underwear, and Tavros can feel his breath on his shoulder as he looks down at him over it. As Dave’s hand closes around him he loses all coherent thought, bucking up into it like an inexperienced wriggler. The DJ’s movements are slow and deliberate, drawing every sound of pleasure and need from Tavros enough to be heard clearly over the unrelenting pop beats. 

Tavros has almost forgotten the ill fitting music, but it becomes apparent in its absence when the song suddenly ends. Before he can start to panic properly Dave has pulled a mic over and then covered Tavros’s mouth tightly. He lightens up on his stroking as he talks, not enough to make Tavros feel completely desperate for contact, but enough to keep his moans sufficiently muffled behind the hand. 

“I hope you’re feeling sufficiently and unjustly punished, loyal listeners. I know a certain radio station assistant that’s looking very pitiful. Shh, it’s not your fault. Only Afternoon Delight now.” He keeps the intro mercifully short, taking his hand away from Tavros’s mouth to type in the song and hit enter. Tavros watches his hand (the one not currently wrapped around his cock), waiting for it to turn the mic off before he lets out a heaving, gasping moan. 

“You hear that, ladies and gentlemen?” Dave murmers, and Tavros’s blood freezes. He looks at the control panel again, but the mic is still off. Dave moves a hand up through his mohawk in a comforting gesture. “That is the sound of our boy Nitram getting proper molested.” He squeezes the base of Tavros’s bulge, eliciting a strangled “Nnggh!” from him as he tries to figure out what’s going on. 

It’s just a game. And once he realizes that there’s no actual danger of being heard, he starts to see just how incredibly arousing the idea of being heard is. He checks the mic one more time, yes, still off, then lets his voice do what it wants in response to the DJ’s actions. He writhes in Dave’s lap, tries to grind on his crotch but Dave pushes him back up. In the moment that his ass is touching though he can feel Dave’s erection and it fills him with even more intense desire.

“Haaah!”

“If only you could see the kind of crazy hots this guy has," Dave continues, his breath on Tavros's neck as he narrates, "How he’s squirming every time I stroke his foreign xenocock. How he’s all up in my lap like it’s the best seat in the house, crazy ass robolegs all astride Strider. How fucking orange his face is, even more than it usually is when I rag on him. I fucking love seeing you blush Nitram.” He says this last part into Tavros’s ear, and Dave doesn’t need to do anything else. Tavros comes hard, all the tension that had been building up in his body suddenly released. He spills coppery genetic material all over the DJ’s hand, groaning and gasping, arching his back against Dave’s chest. Dave licks up and down the side of Tavros’s neck as he pumps through the orgasm, spreading the fluid along the length of the bulge.

It takes a moment for Tavros to catch his breath and come back to reality. Afternoon Delight is just ending. The irony of the music choice and the fact that it all took less than two songs hits him all at once. Dave nudges him forward, holding up his dirty hand, and Tavros understands what he’s telling him to do. He reaches out to flip the microphone switch and DJ Stridenasty starts talking, smooth as ever.

“Well that was delightful. But I’m actually kind of in the mood for another shitty mashup. Don’t worry Nitram, this one’s about you.” His fingers run through his mohawk as he whispers the name of the song to Tavros, who types while wondering how the hell it’s about him. He hits play and turns off the mic, turning around for approval, and catches Dave licking his genetic material off of one of his fingers. He goes orange all over again, making a strained sort of noise. 

“D-do you... want me to, do s-something for, uhhh,”

“Nah. Don’t wanna get too carried away. Egbert and Captor will be here soon.”

“Oh, uhh, okay.” 

Even so, Tavros spends the rest of the show in Dave’s lap, cutting it rather close before John and Sollux show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of wanted to give Tavros some weird alien junk, but I figured maybe not everyone would be into that, so I just left it pretty vague. I have some ideas I might want to use involving said weird junk for a later chapter, but I'll just see how I feel about it when I write it.
> 
> Also for some reason Afternoon Delight would not be chained by the usual 50 pixels I make the player, and wouldn't play, so that's why it's so big. We'll just pretend it's cause it's a great song and deserves more page space.


	7. Chapter 7

“Ith that what I think it ith?”

“What? Oh yeah, hey what is that brown thing on your neck, Tavros? Do you have like a troll rash or something?”

“Uhhh...”

“Way to be culturally thenthitive. It’th obviouthly a concupiscent shame badge.”

“Uh...a what now?”

“Jethuth, you are tho naive thometimeth John. Lithen, when a troll and another troll love or hate each other very much-”

“Oh, duh! You mean a hickey!”

“That’th pretty much the wortht name for anything ever, but yeah.”

“Yeah it’s pretty dumb. Anyway, is it really a hickey, Tavros?”

“I,...umm,”

“Oh my god it totally is! Congrats I guess, haha.”

“It’th not thomething to be proud of you nookhead, did you mith the part about shame?”

“But it means someone really likes him, or...hates him? oh, I’m sorry...Or... hm!”

“Oh, jutht give up already. You’re embarrassing abtholutely everyone. Forget I even athked. Thorry, tv.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I guess?”  
\--------------------

 

“Nepurrta waves her hand and shouts ‘Pounce de Leon, go!’ Her adorable kitty companion winds up and then bounds into the fray to ravage the imps.”

“Okaaaay, you roll a 16, plus 3 is 19. Wow, good job Nepeta. Pounce takes out three of the imps. There’s only one left. Redglare?”

“Redglare scowls mightily at her foes. She lets out a frightening roar, simultaneously spitting out a burst of fire from her mouth to incinerate the last lowly imp!”

“You roll a 1. Critical fail. Your warlock robes catch fire and burn your skin! You take 8 points of damage and the imp laughs at your misfortune.”

“What? Let me feel that!”

“Noooope, you’re not allowed to grope around behind the DM shield, Terezi.”

“Even to make sure you’re not lying about the rolls?”

“Why would Vriskers lie about the roll? That wouldn’t be very fun!”

“The DM can do anything she wants, even affect the outcome of a roll if she deems it necessary to make the game not super boring. But that’s not what I’m doing. These rolls are all legitimate!”

“Well that hardly seems fair. What’s the point of rolling at all if you’re just going to affect all the luck?”

“If you don’t agree with the rules then you don’t have to play.”

“Aww, Terezi can’t you just trust the DM? I don’t wanna have to face the monsters by myself!”

“You’ll be fine, Serket’s obviously got a huge ladyboner for your character.”

“I ain’t got a ladyboner for anyone. The DM stays neutral at all times. I’m sorry you just keep getting bad breaks.”

“It’s statistically impossible to get this many bad breaks. Every break has been bad.”

“Really? All of them?”

“All of them. What about the time I wanted to take a drink from the brook and fell in and broke my ankle? Or the time I opened a door and hit myself in the snout? Or when I crossed the rickety bridge and a nail went through my boot and gave me tetanus? Your deceit and favoritism couldn’t have a more potent stench.”

“Hmm, she does kind of have a point. Are you fur sure you’re not rigging the rolls maybe just a little teensy bit?”

“I cannot believe this! You guys are ganging up on my like ALWAYS! I’d like to have ONE show where you don’t accuse me of sabotage.”

“Ooh! Look! Tavrawrs is here early! Come on in, we’re playing Dungeons and Dragons!”

“Yeah come on Taaaaaaaavros, you can jump in, I’ll allow it.”

“Uhhh, I haven’t played DnD in, like, a really long time. I, probably, don’t remember how to play, at all...”

“You can take my place, I’m done with this. Don’t worry, I’m sure my character’s luck will drastically and miraculously change as soon as you’re playing her.”

“I’ve never even played, a warlock, or, a dragonborn.”

“Nothing to it, just breathe fire all over everything, it’s awesome. IF you can get a good roll that is.”

“Uuugh, come on Terezi, just move over and let him play. We’ve only got a few minutes left! Okay Tavros, so Redglare is in a field with an imp who is laughing at you becaaaause...you’re naked! Your clothes have all been burned off! So what are you going to do Tavros?”

“Oh, uhhh, isn’t it Nepeta’s turn, now?”

“Nepeta’s had tons of turns and the show’s almost over, so come on! What is Redglare going to do?”

“Uhhh, I guess, I, try to find a tree, or something, to hide behind so that I’m not, being inappropriate? And then, maybe, I’ll breathe fire on the imp?”

“Okay, you rolled a 3. The only tree around is the width of a sapling! You try to hide behind it, and the imp just laughs even more! Now for the fire roll. Aaaaand-oops, there’s Strider. We gotta go! Rocks fall everyone dies.”

“Awww, no fur! I was gonna have Nepurrta make some clothes for Redglare out of imp skin.”

“Uhh,”

“Join us next time on Games for Girls, when we’ll be trying out a game of Paranoia! Oh yeah, here’s some Wolfmother to play us out.”

  
\-------------------

His breakfast conversation with John and Sollux had made Tavros self conscious all day, causing him to hold a hand conspicuously over his neck through all his classes. He probably looked like a freak, but that was preferable to wearing a scarf and likely gaining more attention from Eridan. 

He counts himself extremely lucky when the gaming show hosts leave without noticing the mark. He breathes a relieved sigh as Nepeta waves goodbye one more time through the window. It doesn’t last long, as the person who was capable of causing him embarrassment even when he was nowhere nearby walks in. 

He can’t relax, he has a plan. For revenge, or payback. Or, well, returning what was actually a pretty nice favor, or something. After their tryst, Dave’s coolguy crossfader, already pretty firmly in Dave’s territory, is now so far on his side that the slider knob is broken off. Tavros wants to see if Dave’s chill as hell exterior is really as unflappable as it seems, at least maybe get that slider screwed back on. He suspects that he might have seen the key to getting the DJ off beat the night before when he seemed to not want to be touched. Now it was just a matter of finding the right cue to cut in on.

“Sup.” Dave has a box of vinyls with him, which he thunks down onto the desk and starts sifting through. Tavros moves over curiously and Dave starts handing him albums. He doesn’t have time to read the titles before there’s another one is being placed on top.

“Oh, not much, I was playing Dungeons and Dragons with, the girls, but I think I maybe wasn’t very good at it. But, even considering that, it was still, sort of fun, in a, silly and, uh...” don’t say ironic don’t say ironic, “ironic sort of way?” Tavros knows he has no business talking about irony in front of Dave. He’s letting the DJ’s presence distract him from what he needs to be doing, finding the right moment to set his scheme into action.

“That was pretty much a rhetorical question but okay. So you like that hardcore nerd stuff?” 

“Uh... well, n-not really, I mean. I used to, I guess, but, I stopped, awhile ago. I guess, I kind of like video games more, now.” He’s not about to mention which, as he has a feeling that Pokemon might lie in the no-man’s-land between cool and ironically cool.

“Yeah that’s cool. I play shit when I get time. Mad Snacks Yo is where it’s at.” He stops talking, and Tavros looks up from the copy of The Brave Little Toaster Soundtrack to see Dave watching him from behind his sunglasses. He realizes what the DJ sees, and shuffles the records around in his arms, trying to get a hand free to cover the concupiscent shame badge. But before he can get the pile stabilized Dave’s two fingers are already on his neck, pressing in just enough to let Tavros feel that he’s got the right spot.

“Whoops sorry dude, didn't mean to put the mark of the beast on ya.” Tavros can see the hint of a smirk, and has a feeling that Dave isn’t sorry at all.

“Uhhh, it’s...” Actually causing me a great deal of stress, “okay.” Tavros will chalk that up to waiting for the right moment, not to being completely spineless. The time will come and then he will blossom like a beautiful sexy flutterbeast. “What are all these for?” He shifts as to try not to let One Man Band slip out of its sleeve.

“For some delirious biznasty shit. I’m in another dumbass mashup mood.” He catches the falling record and places it on a turntable. Colossal is winding down and Dave sits in his chair. He pulls the mic over from the conference table type setup the girls had going and flips the switch.

“You gals stay classy. I know you’ll finish a game some day. Well it’s the last Thursday of the month, and dedicated fans of The Bitchin’ Hour know that means it’s time for Stridenasty to spin the hell out of some very ill jams.” He motions Tavros over and looks through the stack of records, pulling one out and laying it on the left turntable. “Nitram you may need to have a seat lest you get the vapors from all the swoonworthy mixing about to take place. Let’s see if we can turn this station into a magical kingdom of musical abomination. ”

The mic goes off as the fader on the left table goes up, and Tavros recognizes the tune from the very very beginning of his Peter Pan DVD. At a certain note Dave puts his hand on the record and spins it back, letting it go for a second only to pull it back to the exact same spot a few more times, creating a skipping effect on the audio. His other hand is busy with the other record, spinning it to a precise point and then releasing it. Vocals from “Money in the Bank” start to play over the loop he’s created with the Disney intro. He tightens up the loop as the chorus begins, narrowing it down to just one beat, and then even smaller, playing it over and over at varied intervals. The repetitions create a completely new rhythm from a single note that perfectly compliments the drum track from Swizz Beatz.

Tavros watches in awe as Dave’s hands fly over the records and various sliders and knobs, almost too fast to see. Each time he brings the record back, he cuts the volume on it down to zero to erase the backscratch, then brings it up for just a fraction of a second as he lets the record go until he pulls it back again. It’s sounds so seamless it could be mistaken for something done with a computer. Needless to say it’s lightyears beyond anything Tavros and Gamzee have horsed around with. His plan to get Dave’s goat is put on hold as he boggles vacantly at these mad skills.

“Lion King,” Stridenasty says without looking away from the record player. Tavros just stares, not comprehending what Dave is trying to communicate. A few beats go by and he looks up, letting go of the left record so the rap song is playing by itself. He reaches over and grabs the Lion King soundtrack from the stack, switching it for the other Disney one.

“Shit, uh, sorry,” Tavros says, moving a little closer a little too late, Circle of Life is already playing and Dave already has another record queued up. 

“No sweat,” he replies, letting the right record go to play another incongruous-yet-strangely-fitting hip hop track. “You don’t have to keep holding those, I’m not doing some kind of objectification thing where you’re my living shelf.” Tavros complies, setting the albums down on the table next to Dave’s workstation. He watches Dave have his way with the music a little longer before remembering his plot to rile the DJ up. Maybe he shouldn’t. He wouldn’t want to mess him up too badly while he was doing live mixing. Then again, Dave had no problem interfering when Tavros was trying to do his job. So maybe he deserves it a little, at least for the hickey. And he’ll probably be able to tell if it ends up being a bad idea pretty quick. 

It takes a while to summon all of his courage and hide all his fear of rejection, but eventually he finds the nerve to step next to the chair and stoop down. Dave is slowing down Circle of Life when Tavros puts a hand on his thigh. The muscles in his leg are jumping slightly with the beat of the music. There’s one extra twitch as Tavros lays his hand down with enough weight to be detected, and that gives Tavros a boost of confidence, that maybe he just might be able to affect the cool DJ.

Tavros can’t tell if Dave gives him so much as a sideglance, and he really wishes he could get those shades off of him. There’s no evidence in the music either, the beats stay strict as ever as Just Can’t Wait To Be King starts backing Ludacris. Most importantly, Dave doesn’t tell him to stop, and that encourages Tavros to go a little further. He moves his touch higher up Dave’s leg until his palm is resting just below his crotch. 

He swears he can actually hear the DJ’s breath hitch, and his leg tenses up. And then Dave suddenly moves his arm towards him. Tavros panics for a moment and ducks slightly, but Dave is just reaching over his horns to grab another record, Beauty and the Beast, he notices. It starts playing as Dave gets another record ready, and Tavros takes the plunge, pressing his hand on the front of the DJ’s jeans. He definitely hears a sharp exhale this time. 

“I uhh, can stop, if you think, maybe I am being, too distracting?” he can’t help but ask. 

As Dave lets the needle drop on the Fat Joe song he lets out a derisive laugh. “You think a little clumsy as hell fondling is going to get me off my game, Nitram?” Even as he says it and Tavros’s face goes hot at the insult, the DJ’s voice has just a tiny waver to it. It’s obviously a challenge, and now that he has consent Tavros is all too willing to take him up on it. He’s going to make Stridenasty lose his cool. And step one is getting further into his pants. 

Tavros feels a bit silly as he moves around to settle on his knees between Dave’s legs while he continues to spin expertly. He tries not to act like a stupid flushing wriggler as he undoes the fly and yanks Dave’s pants down just enough to reveal red boxers and a noticeable bulge. He looks up to see Dave licking his lips as he pulls the Disney record back again and again to create the backing for I Won’t Tell. He can almost catch a glimpse of Dave’s eyes from this angle, but as if the blond is telepathic he pushes them back up on his nose. Fine. Tavros will just have to get him to show emotion some other way. He places his hand back on Dave, feeling a strong pulse as blood rushes into his cock. Tavros wonders if it’s weird that it’s exactly to the beat of the music.

When he grasps Dave through his boxers the only reaction he gets is a subtle shift of legs. When he tightens his grip and moves his thumb along it he is rewarded with another sudden exhale. When he pulls the erection out and envelops it in his fingers he gets an honest to god gasp. Soft, but a gasp nonetheless. Tavros’s own breath is rather shallow as he holds probably the coolest dick on campus in his hand and begins stroking, the music (when did it change to Aladdin?) providing a helpful rhythm to go with. 

As he works, watching in fascination Dave’s minute reactions to his actions, feeling how the music seemed to direct everything in their two bodies, a thought occurs to him. Maybe getting Dave out of rhythm is a simpler matter than he thinks. He slows down his hand around the impossible heat of the DJ, purposely going off the beat of Rich Boy throwing Ds on bitches. 

The result is almost instantaneous. DJ Stridenasty actually _faulters,_ a single misstep in the melody of Never Had a Friend Like Me that almost covers up the sound Dave makes as Tavros squeezes. The bit of voice is unlike anything he’s heard from the DJ in the past. It’s uncalculated, unplanned, doesn’t carry any of the barely veiled sarcasm Tavros is used to and it sends a jolt straight to his own bulge.

He wants more of the same as soon as possible so he keeps it up, pumping erratically as Dave squirms uncomfortably. He’s obviously bothered by the lack of synchronicity, but he doesn’t put a stop to it, just sort of grits his teeth and glances down at Tavros while he’s grabbing new records with a little less grace than normal. Tavros just looks back with the most innocent expression he can muster as he continues, working the DJ’s cock to the best of his rather inexperienced ability. Dave lets out a frustrated little moan as he starts the new records simultaneously.

“Is this uh, too much, for you, Dave?” 

“P-please,” he says over The Ying Yang Twins and an orchestral crescendo. “This is...nothing...This is so nothing its negative something. I’m becoming...haa, more chaste and innocent because of this. Hff.” Tavros would kill to see him squeeze his eyes shut behind those glasses.

Dave’s coping strategy is apparently to play a song with a hardly discernible beat among the raucous brass and nonsense lyrics. Tavros accidentally falls back into rhythm a few times before he decides it’s time to up the ante further. He licks his lips and sits forward, dragging his tongue up the underside of Dave’s erection. His prize is another loud gasp, and a barely noticeable backscratch on the record. Tavros takes a deep breath and takes the DJ into his mouth, improvising on what to do with his lips and tongue and above all minding his teeth. He’s never done this to a human before. Dave moans long and low, bucking forward into him.

“Oh, fuck...shit...Tavros...” It’s the first time he’s used his first name, and it sounds beautiful coming out uncontrolled and breathless like that. Tavros drops a hand down to his own aching need, sliding a hand under his waistband as he pushes his head down even farther into Dave’s crotch. 

There’s another delicious keening groan and offputting record scratch sound and the music stops. Dave pushes at Tavros, bringing his knees up to wedge against Tavros’s horns, keeping him from getting to his cock as he hurriedly pulls a mic over. He swallows before turning it on, and the smoothness in his voice is more forced than Tavros has ever heard it.

“Sorry folks, looks like I’m going to have to cut this session short. Nitram took my suggestion to burn ‘Back to Bedlam’ seriously and now we’ve got a small fire to deal with. Here’s some Glitch Mob in the meantime.” 

Tavros, who has been fighting against Dave’s legs, suddenly falls forward when the DJ puts his feet back on the floor. Dave grabs onto his horns, frantically getting him back into position, panting with need as he does so. Tavros figures he’s pretty clearly broken Stridenasty’s cool facade at this point, so obliges him, bringing one hand up to join his mouth in lavishing attention on Dave’s cock, his other hand jerking himself off. 

Dave is moaning and gasping and making all sorts of uncharacteristic and interesting noises without reservation now, and Tavros wonders how many people get to see (and hear) this side of him. If this is all it takes to get him riled up, and with the importance he seems to put on maintaining his cool, Tavros guesses it’s a pretty low number. This thought combined with Dave’s sounds, his fingers gripping at his mohawk and cradling his neck, the hardness of Dave’s erection against his tongue all send him over the edge, making a rather sticky situation in his underwear.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t think Dave will let him, putting forth more effort into this than he puts into a lot of his classes. With encouragement from Dave’s hand he forces himself all the way down on Dave’s cock, gagging and vaguely noting his nosering being sandwiched between his upper lip and the DJ’s wiry blonde pubic hair. Dave lets out a final delectable shaking groan and Tavros tries and fails not to cough as he feels hot liquid spilling down the back of his throat.

It takes a moment before he hears Dave swear softly and he lets go of Tavros, who pulls back, gasping for breath. In between his ragged breaths he closes and opens his mouth a few times, tasting the bitter human semen in his mouth and finding the depravity a bit arousing. But he’s suddenly exhausted, and so just sits back, looking up at the DJ. Dave is sitting back as well, head tilted up towards the ceiling.

“Sweet mother of fuck,” he mumbles, actually removing his shades and wiping his sleeve across his face. Tavros swears he can see a flash of red before the glasses are back on, and he would ask to see again except now Dave is leaning forward towards him.

“Shit, you okay?” Dave asks, wiping his thumbs at the corner of Tavros’s eyes. He realizes that he feels moisture there, reflexive tears from being straight up deepthroated. He nods, still unable to articulate words. Dave bends down further and kisses him, not shy about sticking his tongue where his dick was a moment ago. Tavros kisses back eagerly, bringing his arms up to hold Dave’s wrists. He wants to stay like this forever, but the song is ending and Dave is grabbing the microphone once again.

The mid-show smoke break begins normally, in cool darkness and silence, until Dave offers Tavros his fake cigarette. He manages to cough even though it’s not real smoke, missing the flavor in his botched attempt at being cool. Dave grabs it back, takes a drag and then pulls Tavros in, locking lips and breathing fruit punch flavored vapor into his lungs. Tavros wasn’t sure he could get weak in the robotic knees, but apparently that particular neural circuit still works, and Dave has to hold him before he falls.

“Do we have, what I guess, I can only think of, to describe as, uh, ‘a thing?’” Tavros asks once he’s recovered and they’re both leaning on the railing side by side, shoulders pressed together.

“We can’t keep doing that shit in there,” Dave says after a bit, “I can’t fuck up like that on air, I have an image to maintain. An auditory reputation, whatever.” Tavros’s heart drops and he looks off into the early morning dimness, telling himself he should have expected this. Did he really think he could get into a relationship with someone as cool as DJ Stridenasty? Stupid.

“Oh,...okay, I guess, I understand,”

“So do you want to go out for dinner or something sometime?” Dave actually sounds a tiny bit nervous asking Tavros out. As he stammers out a yes, Tavros marvels at the thought that he may actually have put a little more than a dent in the Dave’s Great Wall of Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Disney mashups in this chapter are all by Tanner4105, a great mashup artist.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Youtube is cramping my style with a minimum size for video players. So that's what the deal with that is.

“Listen up kiddies, cause playtime’s over. It’s Midnight now. I don’t know what you learned today in your fancy little college classes but I’m here to tell you that it’s all worthless. All you need in this world is a good inventory system and a sharp blade. Everything else is just peanuts. Hearts, hit play on the thing.”

“What’s the hell is he talking about? This isn’t the gaming show is it?”

“I dunno, those guys are...really weird. I’ve seen them, a few times. They, don’t go to school here.”

“Yeah I figured. So you gonna invite me in or what?”

“Uhhhhhh, my room isn’t really....”

“You drove me to your dorm dude. FYI, I live a couple blocks that way. You tellin’ me to get out and walk? That’s real cold man.”

It’s Friday and they’re sitting in Tavros’s rusted out 1970s orange pickup after a sort of maybe date to IHOP. Tavros hadn’t even been thinking about where he was driving on the way back because he was busy listening to how cool Dave was in a non-radio setting. Even if the things he said had no basis in reality or logic Tavros felt compelled to agree, because he just made it sound _right._

Now Tavros is faced with the prospect of having Dave see his dorm room. And while he’s quite eager to spend more time with the DJ in a private setting, he’s not sure if his room is where he wants to do it. It’s a bit of a mess, and to be honest he’s embarrassed by both his and Gamzee’s choice of decoration. When he’d put up his posters he hadn’t expected that anyone quite so _rad_ might pay a visit.

“I, uh...” He couldn’t say no. He would just brace himself and take the ridicule. He did it pretty much every night in the studio anyway. He just hoped it wouldn’t be so lame that Dave decided to forget about him. “Yeah, okay you can come in. I don’t, think my roommate's, uh, there.”

“Hell yeah gonna get my snoop on.”  
\--------------

“Anymore callers say I’m fat I’m gonna find out where you live and I’m gonna bust down yer flimsy particleboard door and kick the crap outta yer soft cafeteria-fed belly. Now stuff this in yer sadsack ears ya idiots.” 

“I’m, really sorry it’s kind of, messy and, maybe not what, you’re used to in terms of, coolness?”

“Are you kidding? This...this is incredible.”

“Uhh....what?”

“Okay okay hold up lemme guess which side is yours....oh man I don’t know which would be better. Shit.”

Tavros is going orange as he stands in the doorway. Dave has barged in and is inspecting the various cringe-worthy adornments all around the room. One corner of the tiny dorm room is his, the walls decorated with Amy Brown fairies and Peter Pan. Pokemon cards are scattered on his desk, obscuring his biology homework. Tavros surreptitiously gathers them up and shoves them in a drawer while Dave is inspecting the other side of the room.

Said side is plastered with Insane Clown Posse pictures, paintings of creepy gangster clowns, and posters for both Big Money Hustlas and Big Money Rustlas. The floor is littered with various juggling equipment and Gamzee’s unicycle is leaning up against his desk. Dave nudges his foot against the recuperacoon before moving to Tavros’s section of the room.

“Okay, this side is definitely yours,” Dave says after a moment.

“How do you, know that?” Tavros asks, extremely relieved that his date knows him well enough not to mistake Gamzee’s weird interests for his own uncool ones. 

Dave points to the photo of Tinkerbull Tavros has tacked up above his computer monitor. “This is your spirit animal parent thing right? Looks just like you.” 

“Oh,” Tavros flushes even more, grabbing the photo and jamming it in his pocket. He loves Tinkerbull, but the lusus’s size and general ridiculous appearance have caused him to bear the brunt of more than a little teasing.

“What’s wrong?” Dave says and he actually sounds like he might be a little concerned. Tavros falters a bit more than normal as he struggles to explain the more overarching problem he’s been having with the whole relationship. 

“Uhhh, well, I guess...I just don’t really understand how someone, so cool, could be interested in, doing things, like, the things we’ve been doing, with someone, kind of lame, uh, like me.”

“You’re really forcing me to lay it on the line here huh, Nitram?” Dave says, stepping in close, “Here’s the deal. I think you’re fucking adorable. I mean look at you. You’ve got this industrial metalhead thing going, you’ve got god damn metal legs. You look like a total badass. But you’re not. You’re polite and unsure, and the cutest fucking thing and it’s so easy to get you to blush. See, there you go again.” Dave is right as he runs a finger along Tavros’s heated orange cheek, his other hand dragging its nails along his scalp and causing him to shudder, “And anyway, why would I want someone as cool as me? There’s something called too much of a good thing, you know.”

“Uh, oh...okay.”  
\---------------

“Christ Hearts what the hell was that? Guess I should be grateful it wasn’t any of that gospel slop you like. Alright it’s my turn, let’s bring something with a modicum of class for once. Anyone who can’t appreciate this doesn’t deserve to live, and if you disagree I’ll be happy to prove you wrong.”

Things are going quite well despite the rocky start. They’ve managed to lie out on the ratty couch without Tavros poking his horns into one of the holes in the cushions. Dave is straddling his hips and kissing him enthusiastically, and for once the radio is cooperating and playing something mildly appropriate. It’s all very nice, and there’s just one thing Tavros wants to change to make it perfect.

“Mmh, Can uh....do you think, aah, maybe you could, take off your glasses, Dave?” Tavros asks hopefully. Dave stops kissing his neck and sits up, leaning back against Tavros’s metal thighs, which he has bent up to cram himself on the too-short sofa.

“On the first date? Tavros you dog.”

“You don’t count, the other two, or, depending on how you look at it maybe, three times?”

Dave stares awhile at Tavros, who hesitantly slides his hands up Dave’s arms towards the aviators. Before he gets there Dave reaches back and flicks the lightswitch off, and now the only illumination is coming from the screensavers on the two computers in the room. Tavros licks his lips as he eases the shades from Dave’s face. He has to poke Dave in the ribs to get him to open his eyes, and when he does he turns away. Tavros sighs in exasperation as he sets the shades on the side table and pulls Dave in for another kiss. It’s not like him to be timid or bashful like this, and it just piques Tavros’s curiosity even more. 

When they pull away for air and Dave blinks a bit, Tavros finally sees them, clearly even in the dimness. And once he sees the cherry red irises he can’t stop staring. He tugs Dave’s head down again to get a better look, and sees Dave roll his eyes for the first time. It’s something he probably actually does a lot of behind the shades.

“Hey look can we not make a big deal about this? I know its really weird but I’d like it not to be a federal fucking case. Don’t tell anyone and I won’t tell everyone about your fairy fetish ok?” 

“Its not a fetish, Dave. It’s, just a healthy interest, I guess,” Tavros says, rather rudely holding Dave’s eyelids apart with two fingers; he can’t get enough of looking at them. “Besides, uh, if I told anyone about your eyes, I would simultaneously be revealing, my own newfound fetish for them?” He hopes that wasn’t incomprehensible and didn’t sound too cheesy. He has a feeling the two are mutually exclusive though. 

Dave just gives a short snort of laughter and bats Tavros’s hand away so he can distract him with his own wandering touch. Tavros hisses and squirms as Dave drags his fingernails teasingly down his torso under his shirt. He does the same to Dave. The effect is amplified by his claws and Dave gasps, grinding into Tavros’s lap, causing Tavros to grab onto Dave’s hips and moan. They’re pretty much creating the most awesome feedback loop ever.

Dave is fishing in his back pocket for something, and Tavros is biting his lip in suspense. Suddenly Dave freezes. He’s looking at something over his shoulder, but all Tavros can see is Gamzee’s side of the room.

“Uhh...Dave?”

“Huh? Sorry dude, nothing,” he turns back, a condom in his hand and the simple item and all its connotations sends a jolt straight to Tavros’s bone bulge. He brings Dave back down to run his teeth along his neck, flicking his tongue against the hot skin. Dave is groaning and rutting against him, and they’re both having trouble getting their pants undone, their hands knocking into each other. 

Dave sits up again so they can focus on their own zippers, and Tavros gets his undone and his boxers down in record time. Dave, however, seems to be hesitating. He’s staring into space at a point just beyond Tavros’s shoulder. Without his glasses he looks absolutely nervous. As if he can’t stop himself he starts to look back behind him again. Tavros, impatient with lust, starts working on unzipping Dave’s pants for him.

Dave turns back and is about to lean down but then he stops again. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. His words come with difficulty, like he’s fighting to say them.

“I....I can’t do this Tavros.”

“Uhh...what? I...oh, ummm, I’m sorry, did I do something-”

“No, shit no it’s not you. Nothing I want more right now than for you to fuck me.”

“M-me? Fuhh...I-”

“But....Fuck. I can’t do it.” He bends down, hiding his face in Tavros’s shoulder. “Not with those fucking rap clowns staring at me.”  
Tavros knits his eyebrows and looks behind Dave. Gamzee’s posters are a little creepy, yeah, their white and black faces standing out in the dark, but...really?

“Uh...”

“As hilariously ironic as it would be to get intimate as all hell in a room full of fairies and face-painted fuckwads...I just...knowing Shaggy 2 Dope is back there leering at me is totally slaughtering my boner. I’m really sorry.” He’s mumbling into Tavros’s shirt, and Tavros sort of awkwardly pats his back.

“It’s okay...I, understand.” In reality Tavros isn’t sure he does. It seems pretty silly to him, but maybe Dave has some kind of clown or rap-related childhood trauma. Tavros is still very much ready to go, but he eases his hands under Dave to pull his pants back up. He can’t believe he’s being bone bulge-barriered by ICP, but he’s not about to force Dave into it. 

Dave sits and leans back on Tavros’s legs again. Tavros can tell he’s genuinely embarrassed about it, and doesn’t push the issue. Tavros may get flustered easily, but a coolguy like Dave doesn’t, and to tease him for it would just be mean. Dave seems to be gathering himself up mentally, then says, “We can go to my place or something.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like it might be, pretty nice. As long as you don’t uh, have any really high, ledges in your room.”  
\-------------------------

“Hi everybody! It’s 12:56 and that means it’s time for The Clubs Deuce Club Corner! I get to play whatever I want at the end of the show while Hearts and Spades and Diamonds are arguing. I think they’re having a jerk-off to see who can be the biggest jerk. I.....what was I talking about?.........oh yeah! This song is really neat. I thought you guys might like it! Okay, bye! Oops which button is it? Maybe this one?” 

“Bro you will never guess the miracle I just all up and happened upon. I was just comin’ back to the room like I always do and there was this motherfucking sock all hangin’ on the doorknob. Just chilling real cool like it isn’t even a motherfuckin’ thing to be a sock on a doorknob. What even compelled this magical sock to get all up on a place like that where it doesn’t even motherfucking go in the normal course of- Oh, uh, hey.” 

Before Dave even bothers with getting his pants fastened again, he’s got his sunglasses back on, before the door is even fully open and Tavros’s face-painted roommate knows there’s actually someone else in the room. While Tavros is scrambling out from under him and stuttering poor excuses, Dave leisurely zips up his jeans and buttons them.

“Oh, uh, sorry Gamzee, I should have....left a more clear signal, I guess, that I had a, uh, guest?...This is Dave. Dave this is, my roommate, Gamzee.” Tavros doesn’t turn the light on until both of their pants are securely closed, even though it couldn’t be more obvious what they’d been doing.

“Oh helllllll yeah, you’re the miracle musicbox motherfucker always up and giving Tav a hard time. What is up brother?”

Dave looks like he’s actually suppressing a grin as he shakes Gamzee’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gamzee. You have a lovely home.” 

“We should, probably go. In case Gamzee has, some homework he needs to work on?”

“Hey, don’t let me chase you all out of here. You’re perfectly motherfuckin’ welcome to just kick the shit up in here all night. I’ll get my motherfuckin’ unobtrusive on.”

“Nah, me and Nitram were just discussing a change of scenery. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him Mr. Gamzee,”

“Hehehe, don’t be disruptin’ my bro’s honor and all that now!”

“Umm, okay bye, Gamzee.”

Tavros is still flushing when he closes the door behind him. Dave is looking contemplative.

“Sorry about that, I thought he knew, what a sock on the doorknob, means.”

“Is he...for real?”

“Uhhh, I guess he is, as for real as someone can be, about all that stuff?”

“Huh. Cool. Okay let’s take this radical party down the street, promise I’m not gonna pussy out on you again. By the way that’s probably another thing you shouldn’t tell anyone about.”

“I, wasn’t going to.”

“Thanks bro, you’re a real good sport,” Dave gives him a chaste kiss and starts off towards the dorm exit. Tavros can’t help but stare at his ass as he walks. How could he not with the square condom foil brazenly sticking out of his back pocket like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it ended on the kink meme, but I have a final chapter almost done. I just need to pick a couple more music tracks (for once I'm having trouble with this) and close it all out. And then it'll be done! Unless I decide I want to add more to this unwieldy AU.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: I decided to go with a tenta-bulge sort of thing that uhm, sort of moves on its own a little bit. So if that freaks you out, might want to skip from "Blackmill- Let It Be" to "DYE-Fantasy" and assume sex happened.
> 
> This chapter kind of got away from me. It makes up about a quarter of the whole fic in word count. Whoops.

“Heeeey buoys and gulls, it’s ~Friday, Friday, well actually it’s Saturday~ But that’s okay because it’s still the weekend, weekend~ and you know what that means! It’s time for Doctor Octopussy’s Underwater Danceparty! YESSSS!!! And I am just SO excited to be here with my gal Nurse DJade!”

“Hehehe, hey Doctor! You know campus has been looking pretty under the weather lately. Do you have a prescription for the wicked case of the mopes everyone seems to have?”

“I sure do! You crabby customers need a saline injection of HOT BEATS!”

“YEEEAAAH!”

As Tavros catches up to Dave, the blond holds his hand out towards him. Tavros stares at it in confusion until Dave “tsk”s and reaches over, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Is this your first time holding hands? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he says with a smirk. Tavros continues to stare at their linked palms, and somehow this makes him blush more than when they’d been dry humping a few minutes ago.

“D’you want me, to drive...or...?” Tavros starts as Dave pushes the front door of the dorm open.

“It’s called the _walk_ of shame man, kinda cheating if you just drive home in the morning,” Dave replies, pulling Tavros down the sidewalk easily. “I mean I’m eager as heck to get back in your pants, but it’s nice out.”

It is. The sky is clear and the brightest stars manage to show through the light pollution caused by the campus streetlamps. They can hear the muffled and out of sync bass from dueling frat parties as they walk through the cool night air. Occasionally a feral drunken yell or a shriek of girlish laughter rips through the relative peace, the sounds of other pedestrians out on a Friday night-Saturday morning.

“Animals,” Dave says, shaking his head in a ‘what is the world coming to’ sort of way.

“Just wait, till we get...to your place, if you, maybe want to see...a real animal?” Tavros says, grinning tentatively. Dave looks around at him, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape.

”Whoa, good one,” he says, laughing, and Tavros laughs as well in relief. “Just watch those claws of yours.” Dave squeezes his hand a little.

“What about, my teeth?”

“You’ve shown admirable control with those, so I’ll be lenient.”

\----------

“Are you guys partying hearty out there? If you’re not, GET UP! This is fishical therapy for your SOLE!”

“Doctor’s orders you guys! Don’t just stand there, get up and GET DOWWWN!”

“Nurse DJade gimme 50 CCs of searious BASS! STAT!”

“Coming right up!”

\------

Dave lives in a little pink house across the street from campus. It’s lit up and pumping more beats out onto the street. Dave lets out a groan, “Fuuuck that’s right, John said he was gonna have ‘a few people over’ which of course means an all out rager.” He looks a little agitated, and Tavros is rather surprised. He sort of figured DJ Stridenasty would be all about parties. “Better not be anyone in my room,” he mutters as he walks up the front steps, letting go of Tavros’s hand to open the door.

The music immediately becomes louder, light and sound spilling out through the doorway. Tavros watches Dave take a deep breath, set his shoulders, and head inside. He follows, and is immediately sort of overwhelmed by the noise and all the people. He doesn’t get two steps before a red Dixie cup is thrust into his hand. He looks down at it, puzzled. It feels like it’s about three-quarters foam.

When he looks up he’s lost Dave, and he starts to panic mildly. There are so many people here, and it’s such a small house. And it’s so loud. He gives up looking for Dave, and just scans the room for anyone he knows. Dave lives here with John, so maybe some of the other radio people are here? Why is the music so loud? It just makes everyone have to yell to talk. It’s so stupid.

He pushes his way through the crowd, trying to keep his horns in check, but a few exclamations to his right and left let him know he failed. This is one of the reasons he really hates crowded places. He continues though, mumbling a steady stream of “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, sorry, excuse me, sorry...” while trying to look around without turning his head too much.

Finally he sees a familiar set of double horns on the other side of the room towards what looks like the kitchen, and Tavros shifts, trying to sidle that way. Someone knocks into him and the beer in his hand goes right up onto his shirt. “Oh shit! Sorry!” says a girl with a big blonde bubble of hair. She’s gone again before he can tell her that it’s okay (though it’s really not, he feels gross and cold now).

He faintly hears Dave’s familiar voice as he approaches the kitchen and sighs in relief, then realizes the DJ’s tone isn’t anything like he’s heard before. It’s strained and frustrated, and Tavros feels a pang of pity for him.

“...say you’re gonna have a few friends over I expect a fuckin’ tea party, Egbert! Not half the god damn school cramming into our house and trashing the place. Is that my apple cider?” he’s saying, his voice struggling to stay calm.

“Dave, I’m sorry! I just made a lot more friends than I realized.”

“Well fucking good for you. Where’s your prom queen tiara?”

“Oh c’mon, you’re such a curmudge. I put a sign on your room to make sure no one goes in!”

“Oh good! I’m sure that’ll keep out a bunch of drunk assholes that-”

Tavros steps into the relatively undercrowded kitchen, feeling like he should try and defuse the situation, though he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do. John is wrangling an absolutely massive cluster of bottles on the counter, seemingly trying to conceal an amber colored one in the middle. Sollux is helping, though the other troll looks more like he’s trying to melt into the floor to avoid the confrontation.

Apparently Tavros doesn’t have to do much of anything. Dave sees him come in and he visibly relaxes, though Tavros feels like it’s mostly for his benefit.

“Later, Egbert,” he says dismissively, turning away and grabbing Tavros’s hand. He drags him back into the crowd and towards a hallway in the back, Tavros letting the apologies fly, trying to walk on his tiptoes to let his horns pass over as many party-goers as his height will allow.

The hallway is packed too, and Dave’s grip tightens as he pulls him through towards a door on the end. They finally get there, and Dave makes an annoyed grunt at the paper that’s been tacked to the door and written on in blue sharpie. “STAY OUT! :P” He twists the knob and throws the door open, stomping in and clearly getting ready to give hell to anyone that’s in there.

The room is empty though, and Dave’s shoulders slump. Tavros steps into the room and shuts the door quietly behind him. There’s a lock on it and he turns it, figuring that’s what Dave would want.  
\-------

“Things are reelly heating up in the studio, Nurse DJade just lost her shirt!”

“The music told me to do it Doctor Octopussy! Am I crazy?”

“No honey, it’s a perfectly natural reaction to these tunes, and I’m digging your clamshell bra!”

“Thanks!”

“Well try to keep yourself under control for the sake of decency. Though I know that’s gonna be tough with this next song.”

“I’ll do my best, here comes another dose of body-busting jams!”

\----

“Uggggh!” Dave flops facedown on his bed in a melodramatic gesture as Tavros stands by awkwardly, looking around the room.

It’s lit solely by a string of multi-colored Christmas lights crisscrossing the ceiling. There are photos clipped to the wire, most of them of Dave himself, though there are a few featuring piles of garbage, crows, and one of a tall blond man with his back to the camera.

One wall is piled high with music and computer equipment, samplers and turntables and mixing boards and monitors. The stereo is tuned to KSBRB at a reasonable volume, and since they just got here Tavros figures it must be on all the time. He can’t help but flush, imagining Dave in here, making the connection as he hears Tavros’s letter read aloud on Quadrant Queries.

Another wall has a lot of old school photography stuff next to a shelf full of what looks like dead insects, a few scorpions encased in acrylic, and a bleached white bird skeleton. Dave’s bed is in a corner, a full-size mattress with plain white sheets and a red bedspread and pillows.

“Sorry,” Dave says into his mattress, and Tavros returns his attention to him, suddenly feeling bad about snooping, even though Dave had been doing the same thing earlier in his room.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Tavros replies, smiling a little, “I don’t really, like loud crowded places, either.” It’s been interesting to hang out with Dave outside the studio. He’s definitely more comfortable behind the microphone.

Dave sits up, taking a deep breath and seeming to gather himself. “Come here, check this out. This is a human recuperacoon. It’s called a ‘bed.’”

“Dave, I...know what a bed is,” Tavros replies with a smile, stepping closer.

“Cool, then you already know how it works.” Dave reaches his arms out and Tavros steps between them, leaning down to kiss the DJ. Dave’s arms loop around his neck and pull him in, opening his mouth and beckoning Tavros inside. Tavros puts a metal knee up on the bed and it slips off the smooth sheets. He falters a bit and stumbles forward. Dave just lays back and takes him with him.

“Dude you smell like a cheap brewery. Did you seriously party that hard when I lost you for five minutes out there?” Dave says, plucking at Tavros's damp shirt.

“Oh, sorry, someone...spilled that on me,” he replies, sitting up on his knees over Dave to pull it off.

“Much better,” Dave says, ghosting his fingers along the grey skin and smirking appreciatively. Tavros leans down again to lick at Dave’s neck, wanting to give him a shame badge like the blond gave him. He closes his lips around it and sucks, reminding himself over and over that human skin is more delicate and making sure his teeth are in check.

“Holy-...holy shit yeah,” Dave says, squirming under him and reawakening Tavros’s erection with ease. “Damn Tav, your fangs.....nnnngh.” Wow, if he’d known the effect they would have, Tavros would have tried this a hell of a lot sooner.

With no clown posters to distract him, Dave is all about getting their pants undone again. Tavros has a hard time keeping still and not pressing his crotch into the DJ’s hand long enough to let him get the job done. Dave finally has to hold Tavros’s hip in place to get his cargo shorts and grey briefs down.

“You um... you said you wanted me to...” Tavros starts, entranced by the image of Dave wrapping his hand around the base of his bulge.

“Fuck me, yeah,” Dave says, licking his lips. Tavros bites his own as he watches the blond digging in his back pocket for the condom again. He wiggles out from under him to get his own pants off and hands the packet to Tavros.

Tavros fumbles with it for a few moments, checking if it’s flavored or ribbed or anything, when he realizes...

“Uh... Dave...”

“Huh?” Dave pauses peeling his skinny jeans off to look up.

“This...is um...a human condom.”

\-----

“Phew, okay guys, time for a break. Dr. Octopussy says stay hydrated, and not just the seadwellers! Are you good, DJade?”

“Yeah...I just...gotta...catch my breath. That last song really took it outta me.”

“Sit down and chill out. That goes for all my party people out there. Don’t wear yourselves out too bad. We still got a long way to go before this party’s tide goes out!”

“Doctor can I offer an opinion?”

“Well shore!”

“Maybe it’s time for everybody to grab someone special and slow it down.”

“Great idea Nurse DJade! Find someone you like and just get close!”

\-----

“Come on...” Dave mutters as he digs around in his bureau, picking up foil packets and tossing them back in one at a time. Tavros watches him from the bed with a nervous smile, his metal legs crossed and his bulge pulsing, needy but patient.

Dave’s legs are skinny and coated with fine blonde hair, and the rest of him is toned with lean muscles. He’s very attractive in a gangly sort of way. If he wasn’t so horny Tavros might be content to watch him like this forever.

The DJ drops his head a bit and sighs. “I’ve only got purple, blue and green,” he says, holding them up and looking apologetic. “Can’t find any orange ones.”

Tavros laughs and beckons him over. “No, it’s okay, you’re actually supposed to, match the blood color of the person you’re, um, going to...penetrate.” He flushes and Dave snorts at his word choice, sitting back on the bed and handing the condoms over. These are definitely the right kind. The packet boasts a sturdy flexible barrier that ‘moves with you,’ ‘doesn’t sacrifice pleasure for safety’ and ‘a thicker tip to guard against breakage due to overeager bulges.’

“But really, that doesn’t matter, it’s just sort of...a courtesy thing, to show that...you were thinking about them, when you picked the condom?”

“Oh, I just grabbed a couple handfuls from the nurse’s office ages ago.”

“A lot of trolls, just get some of each color, and, pretend they only had that color with, whoever they end up with. It’s, a sort of joke, in a lot of movies and things.”

The choices all sort of clash with his rust-flushed bone bulge, but he figures it doesn’t really make too much of a difference. Dave’s boner is kind of purple-ish, so that’s close enough. He rips the violet package open and the DJ holds his hand out as he moves closer, lowering himself so he’s at eye level with Tavros’s bulge. Tavros hands it over, his heart racing as he watches Dave.

“Have you, ever done this before?” he can’t help but ask.

“Not with a troll,” Dave says, looking at the prophylactic for a moment to determine the right side, and then places it over the tip.

“Me either, with, a human...” Tavros replies, though he’s never gone this far with anyone. He chews on his lip as Dave rolls the purple latex down over his length. His bulge behaves until the last second, when it gives an involuntary shudder, writhing and rubbing itself against Dave’s cheek, seeking the heat of his body. 

“Whoa,” Dave says, sitting up and looking surprised. Tavros’s bulge continues searching for the absent warmth unsuccessfully.

“Sorry,” Tavros says, flushing deeply and covering the unruly organ with his hand until it calms down a little. He supposes the blond didn’t really have a chance to get up close and familiar with his genitals that first time, and now he’s rather embarrassed by its behavior.

“It’s cool,” Dave says, his eyes locked on the purple-clad length, “Just wasn’t expecting that, heh.” Tavros almost tells him to wait till it does that inside of him, but he can’t quite manage such a statement. Instead he pulls Dave up to make out with him a little more before they really get to business. 

Dave holds onto his shoulders with one hand and strokes along the separation of his metal leg and thigh with the other. Tavros can’t stop moving his palms over every inch of pale cream flesh he can reach. His bulge is straining to get closer, and Dave seems to heed it, straddling Tavros’s lap and lowering himself. Detecting the warmth of his insides, the latex covered bulge finds its way between the cleft, rubbing its heavily lubricated tip against the right spot.

“Oh my god,” Dave breathes, his face cradled into Tavros’s neck as it begins to work its way in. The bulge is doing a lot of the work for Tavros, and he’s kind of glad his instincts are taking over in the moment, because he isn’t sure he would be able to penetrate the DJ like this on his own. The mere fact that he’s letting Tavros do this to him is so incredible and has him all worked up with nervousness and pressure to perform.

“Okay...okay,” Dave says, sounding a little overwhelmed as he settles down with his rump flush against Tavros’s thighs. There’s probably going to be an indentation in his ass of the pattern on Tavros’s prosthetics, and that thought has his bulge writhing and trembling, and Dave moans weakly, his nails digging into the troll’s shoulders.

“Are you, okay?” Tavros manages, his own claws carefully grasping his hips. It’s so tight and warm and wonderful. He sort of wants to set up camp in there and stay for awhile. Dave has other plans though.

“Uh huh,” he says, and lifts his head. He’s sweating and flushed as he lifts off of Tavros, and the troll’s bulge twitches again, trying to bury itself back in there. Dave gets all the way up, looking down at Tavros with his teeth overlapping his bottom lip. Tavros can see himself looking back open-mouthed in the DJ’s shades, and that’s kind of weird. He moves to take them off again, his hand shaking and Dave goes back down. His red eyes are half-lidded, staring at Tavros with an intense lust that makes him push his hips up to meet him.

“Dave,” Tavros breathes, dropping the sunglasses onto the mattress and clutching the human’s hips again, pulling him down. Dave’s only response is another groan as he fights to pull himself back up again. It’s a sort of struggle, a completely cooperative and satisfying one that leaves Tavros’s head spinning. He loves seeing Dave like this, all semblance of his usual indifference and chill attitude destroyed against Tavros’s eager bulge.

“Oh shit. Dude,” Dave gasps as he plops back down in his lap after a bit, panting heavily. Tavros looks up from where he’s been stroking the human’s own stationary, pulsing erection “My thighs are killin’ me,” he apologizes. Tavros nods and places a hand on the small of Dave’s back, sitting up on his knees more as he prepares to shift.  
\--------

“Break time is over! Now that you’ve hooked your partner, reel them in and get down and dirty. If you’re still seaurchin for someone, just grab whoever and administer this next shot of barely legal jams!”

“Care to dance Doctor?”

“Oh, my, I think this is against hospital poliseas but I think I can make an exception.”

“No one has to know. Except everyone listening I guess, haha!”

“Don’t be shy you guys! Make your move before your chance sinks!”

"YOU HEARD THE DOCTOR, GET YOUR GRIND ON!!!"

\-----

Dave groans as his back hits the mattress, his legs squeezing Tavros’s sides and the troll grasping his thighs. Dave has his arms thrown back on the mattress above his head, panting with his mouth open and the image has Tavros’s bulge jerking forward with his hips. The DJ tightens his grip with his legs and reaches up to grab onto Tavros’s horns.

“Mf,” Tavros’s grunts as the hold puts a strangely pleasant tension in the sides of his skull.

“Sorry dude, that’s-uhn, like, what they’re there for. C’mon, don’t stop movin’.”

Tavros nods and pulls his hips out again. He’s about to thrust forward when the door shudders and the knob rattles as someone tries to get in. Tavros freezes, panic setting in. The last thing he needs right now was for someone else to walk in on them.

But he’d locked the door, and it stays shut, much to his relief.

“Read the sign, dipshit,” Dave calls, and pulls on Tavros’s horns, trying to get him to keep moving. Tavros has a flash of that feeling he’d gotten when the DJ had jerked him off and pretended they were on-air, that stomach-flipping pang of almost-exhibitionism. He pushes forward again and Dave moans loudly. The door stops moving, the would-be intruder apparently deciding to leave well-enough alone.

“Fucker,” Dave laughs brokenly as he rolls his hips against Tavros. It’s pretty easy to forget his mortification with the DJ moving like that.

“A-actually I think, that would be...mmmy title, at the- hhh, current moment,” Tavros breathes, pulling out and thrusting back a little harder.

“Oh god, don’t,” Dave laughs again, “Just shut up and do it.”

Tavros nods again and shut his eyes, planting his hands on either side of Dave’s head and rolling his hips forward. It feels so incredibly good to bury himself like this in the DJ, and soon they’re in sync with the music, pumping together.

“Oh fuck,” Dave cries, his face so open and affected, like Tavros has never seen it. He’s willing to bet the human rarely shows this side of himself, and he treasures it above all else right now. He wants nothing more than to be able to do this as often as possible, to make Dave come undone and let loose under his actions.

“Uhn- Dave, you...l-look really great, right now,” he ventures, licking his lips as his bulge finds the spot inside him that seems to have the most dramatic results.

“Shit...I-I know right? You too...like damn.” Dave pulls on his horns again to bring him down into a sloppy, penetrating kiss that has Tavros gasping for breath.

“Touch me Tavros,” Dave pleads against his lips, and Tavros complies, dragging his nails down Dave’s torso, causing a keening sound to come from the DJ’s mouth. His hand reaches Dave’s cock and wraps around it, squeezing and pumping in time with his hips.

“Yeah, oh, _fuck_ yeah,” Dave gasps, his crotch seeming to have trouble deciding which way to go, “Holy shit don’t stop, I’m gonna sploodge.” Tavros chuckles thinly at the term and pumps harder. He concentrates hard to overcome his bulge's involuntary motions, forcing it to stay curved upwards to rub repeatedly and hard against Dave’s prostate. He swipes his thumb over the dripping head of the DJ’s erection and in less than five seconds Dave comes with the most incredible sound Tavros thinks he’s ever heard, his cock pumping a few translucent strings of semen onto Tavros’s hand and his own stomach.

\-----

“Okay guys, this party has been totally eelectric, but our time’s almost up and we’ll have to wave goodbye soon.”

“Aww, I was just starting to work up a sweat!”

“Don’t worry, just because our show’s over doesn’t mean the party has to clam up. Remember, Doctor Octopussy makes house-party calls!”

“One more administration of jams and then we have to squiddaddle!’ 

”Hey nice one, DJade!”

\-----

"Mmmm," Dave hums, smiling with closed eyes. His hands slip off of Tavros's horns, around the back of his head through his mohawk and then down along his neck. Then his eyes snap open and he twists his head to look around at the stereo.

“Auggghh! NO!” he cries out, his whole body going limp. It doesn’t sound like a shout of ecstasy, and Tavros stops, looking down in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“God, why did she have to play this?!” Dave moans, putting his hands over his face, “Dude get out- I mean don’t...don’t leave just, y’know...” He makes a motion for Tavros to move back. Tavros pulls out, incredibly baffled.

“Uhm- Dave?”

“Fuck, it’s like she knew I was going to be getting my mack on and just had to ruin it.” He rolls off the bed, staggering a bit and wincing as he steps over to the stereo, “Can’t a guy get fucked without being interrupted every few seconds? Seriously are the fates conspiring against me? What the hell did I do wrong?” Tavros just watches in astonishment and persistent, nagging need as Dave fiddles with the setup. “I mean aside from pretty much everything ever, but damn, what are the fucking odds? I’m gonna have to schedule a hardcore fucking pow-wow with Harley about what is and is not appropriate boning music.”

“Dave...”

The music changes and Dave huffs out a breath and sets his shoulders, upping the volume up to cover the sound of the previous song still coming from the other side of the door, then turns around. The liquid still on his stomach has Tavros’s bulge quivering in agony.

 

“God, I’m really sorry dude, this shit just isn’t going right.”

“What’s, the matter?” Tavros holds an arm out, trying to get the human to come back. Dave makes his way over, visibly attempting to calm down and put his barriers back up.

“Ugh. They just started playing some of my Bro’s music and...I dunno, I just kinda flipped out. It’s sorta hard to do sex with what sounds like...I guess probably like if your lusus was nagging in your ear. Sorry for cockblocking again.”

“It’s okay,” Tavros assures, tentatively grabbing hold of Dave’s hips again and pulling him gently down. He really wants to catch up and get off now, but he has a feeling it would be rude to just cram himself back into the happiest place on earth.

Dave wraps his arms around Tavros’s shoulders and pushes his face against the troll’s neck. Tavros puts one hand into his hair and the other runs along his back soothingly.

“Man, this has been kind of a disaster, huh?” Dave says quietly, sighing warmly against Tavros’s neck, and the troll has to control himself not to just jump the DJ’s bones again.

“No, it’s been, uhm, really awesome, I promise,” Tavros replies. And it’s true. He idolized Dave for being so cool and collected on-air, but now he’s seen that the DJ has actual weaknesses, that he’s not an unbreakable stone pillar. It’s incredibly endearing, and makes him feel like he’s on a more equal footing with the human.

“You sure man? I’ve been pretty uncool tonight,” Dave says, nuzzling against Tavros. The troll can hardly believe how vulnerable he’s being right now.

“You’re still, really cool, and, I still, really like you, a whole lot,” he replies, squeezing him comfortingly. His bulge is still throbbing, writhing around a bit as it tries to find its way back into that awesome warmth. Tavros didn’t want to be _rude_ but....

“Dave...?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, yeah sorry I totally blanked,” Dave says, sitting up and moving back over Tavros.

“You don’t...have to, if, maybe you think, the mood is-”

“No no, man, It’s cool. Here.” He peels the condom off, making Tavros wince at the cold sensation of air against his bulge. That’s soon corrected as Dave sinks down and puts his mouth over it. 

“Oh guh-!” Tavros whines, hands going into Dave’s hair. The DJ coughs a bit and pulls off. 

“Ugh, latex-flavored-dick,” he says, smacking his lips distastefully.

“Sorry.” 

“You gotta stop apologizing for everything dude, just a sec.” Dave gets up again and moves back to his dresser, digging around until he finds a small plastic packet, a sampler of lube. 

“Sour apple, flavor,” he explains, getting back down on the bed and twisting the seal off. Tavros is about to point out that Dave has been apologizing a lot too when Dave turns the packet over and drizzles it onto Tavros. His bulge recoils at the cold sensation, and Dave chases it with his mouth.

Tavros bites his tongue as he’s enveloped once more, his hands holding onto Dave’s hair tight this time. Dave is much more enthusiastic now that it apparently tastes better. He twirls his tongue around the length, and Tavros’s bulge responds, twisting with it enthusiastically. The troll can’t keep himself from moaning loudly as Dave starts to bob his head, and he forces his bulge to remain somewhat still to make things easier on the blond.

Dave hums against him and Tavros leans back, gasping. One of his horns gouges into the wall but he ignores it, focusing instead on hooking his robotic legs around Dave’s back. He tries not to dig his heels in too hard as he pushes himself up into Dave’s lips, where he is received with admirable hospitality.

“Mmmf,” Dave mutters, pushing down and gagging slightly as Tavros’s bulge gives a twitch. It doesn’t take long before he’s calling out Dave’s name, twisting his blonde hair in his fists as he releases his genetic material into his mouth.

“God, Dave, that was...really, really good,” he sputters, horn catching on the wall again as he lifts his head.

“Unh,” Dave says, a bit of copper spilling out of the corner of his mouth. "They always say don't go ass-to-mouth, but it wasn't so bad.  
"I don't think, it counts, if there was...a condom involved." \----

“Shit man,” Dave says a few minutes later, his finger tracing the two deep scrapes in the wall from Tavros’s horns.

“Sor- Um, I mean...that sucks.”

“Nah, it’s kinda cool. Sorta like notches in the bedpost. Gotta do it one more time to make up for the second one.”

“Um....just one more time?” 

Dave smirks mischievously, “Well, just to catch up. After that we’ll have to make new ones. Have to fix ‘em before the lease is up th-.”

Tavros can’t hold himself back anymore and pulls Dave into him to press their mouths together. The DJ makes a surprised noise but quickly reciprocates, pulling the twisted up blanket over them. 

“Oh...I, think I, forgot my dorm key...” Tavros mumbles once they’ve settled under the covers. It was a little difficult with his horns, and not being used to sleeping in a bed, but after everything that’s happened tonight he has a feeling he isn’t going to be difficult to fall asleep. Add to that the fact that Dave’s body curled warm against him is a fantastic substitute for sopor slime.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay here forever,” Dave yawns, reaching over and pulling the plug of his Christmas lights out, leaving only the green and orange lights of the stereo system shining in the darkness.

As the faint bass from the dying party outside lulls them to sleep like a heartbeat, Tavros thinks he can live with that proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple notes for this chapter:
> 
> -Doctor Octopussy's Underwater Dance Party was the name of my radio show during my own brief stint as a college DJ.
> 
> -I guess Bro is Kraddy in this universe, which doesn't really jive with the fact that Dave was totally fine with getting a bj during a song by the Glitch Mob, which Kraddy is part of. We'll just pretend they're totally separate.
> 
> -Dave is going through that thing that happens when you think it's a great idea to move in with your best friend, and then it turns out you can barely stand to live with them. They will learn.
> 
> -Okay that's seriously it! (unless i think of more). Once again, this was really fun to write, and I want to thank all the people that did fan art and readings and so forth. I'd love to gather them all up, but most I've found were purely by mistake. If you've drawn or done something related to Broadcaste System in the past, or if you do anything in the future, I'd love to see it! Submit it to http://knightofrhyme.tumblr.com/submit


End file.
